Nostalgic Season :: Flicker of Gloom
by Inuki Ookami
Summary: Goten x Trunks: Shounen-ai; Yaoi Trunks and Goten returning home for the holidays- they have to finally face their parents. Will Trunks and Goten be able to admit to themselves and their parents a secret they'd rather hide?
1. Part I

**:::: Nostalgic Season: Flicker of Gloom  
**by: Inuki **Ookami****  
**

**Published:** 3rd December, 2003  
**Pairings:** Goten x Trunks  
**Disclaimers: **The poem and Dragon Ball Z and it's characters are obviously not mine.  
**Archive? **I'll probably let you, just tell me first! ^^  
**Summary:** Written for a Winter Fanfic Contest... it's about Trunks and Goten returning home for the holidays- they have to finally face their parents.  
  
**Other notes:** I'l keep it short and sweet: I know I haven't been writing for a long time. I've had a LOT of personal stuff to sort out... and a lot of school work too. I'm going to try and get back on track soon, hopefully.  
  
As always, in regards to this story, it simply wasn't written for comments, but I'm grateful for any recognition I recieve, as well as any criticism- as long as it's rational. ^_^ (And anything that seems out-of-character is um... artistic license on my part! ^^;;; ) And no, this hasn't been spellchecked, and has barely even been proof-read.. expect more to come soon. ^_^  
  


:::: Home For The Holidays _  
  
Here come the tough days, rough season for gay   
Illusions to Currier and Ives, dead limbs family trees   
Chances to love, opportunities to punish   
_ Holidays spent alone, in rooms full of relatives  
  
Always about others, few thoughts for the person   
Why she chose living sinful, how he let down his father   
Shouldn't try to hug grandma, can't be alone with children   
A pariahs isolation, aliens in their own family  
  
A wish to belong, never felt truly one   
Rebuking flashed glances, sly smirks of entendre   
No insights requested, no genuine interest about it   
Prefer speculation, deviant myths rich with gossip  
  
When holidays have passed, returned safe to gay ghettos   
How many will ask, why even they bothered   
Year after year till one day to stop, going home altogether   
Families cannot accept, what they will not understand   
  
© 2003 - Liam  
  


**:::: Part 1  
**  
  
Ever since they had clambered off the bus at four that afternoon, the two of them had been wandering around the neighborhood looking for a certain lane.

"Are you sure you remembered it correctly?" inquired the lavendar-haired youth.

"Quite sure," Goten replied. "Number 57, Moonlight Lane."

The whole area was a labyrnth of lanes, mazes of small alleyways lead down side-roads, and dead-end roads littered the menagerie of sidewalks and road ways. The situation was rather unfortunate, because the dark haired teen had lost his map with the directions on it.

"Why did they have to move into the city?" grumbled Goten, who had never been the biggest fan of urban living. 

The sun was already quickly disappearing behind the previous night's heavy snowfall. The snow had begun to melt slightly during the day, and now was beginning to freeze hard again. Walking was difficult. Frozen over wet patches of newly formed ice made moving slippery, and large snow banks were easy to misjudge and tumble into accidentally.

The pair were in their late teens, the lavendar haired boy being only a year older than his companion.

It was quiet within the alleyways, but the wind was strong. People scurried past from time to time, no one looking anyone else in the eye, which was just fine by them.

Goten walked in front, hugging a large tin of Christmas cookies (which Trunks had evidently complained about, making note that religion was "absurd" as he had put it, and that no baby can be concieved immaculately, according to science. This bothered Goten slightly- not because he believed in Christianity, but simply because he felt that the other boy was too serious and couldn't just enjoy the festive holiday spirit). The raven-haired teenager had tried several times without success to hold the tin under one arm to give hte other a rest, but he was wearing too many layers of clothing and the tin was just too big. As the boy wrestled with the tin, his companion walked on ahead and, breathing heavily, turned to look back at him.

"Serves you right," he said, almost childishly. "You almost managed to lose yourself too!"

Goten raised his face to smile up at the lavendar-haired teen and took a couple of steps forward to catch up, still clutching the large tin. 

The dark-haired boy had lost his wallet earlier when they were buying the cookies (which Trunks had refused to let Goten make in their apartment- and which the older teenager had refused to pay for. As he said he would not allow something so "soiled" to be created under his roof. The dark haired boy protested utterly, proclaiming his friend insane, as they were only little cookies in the shape of fir trees and candycanes- what harm could they possibly do?). Goten was dithering back and forth, trying to choose the best cookie tin, when he discovered the loss. Losing a bit of money wasn't so important, but the map had been in that wallet. Luckily, he could still remember the street name and number.

"It's very cold today," he said, stealing a glance up at his friend.

Trunks did not reply.

"Just think- we've been rushing around the whole day...," he continued, look up apologetically at the lavendar-haired teenager, as if he himself was responsible for the days' bad luck.

With some effort Trunks continued on his way, kicking the loose snow drifts aside to clear the path a bit, and dodging the patches of melted snow on the road, which were beginning to harden.

"Do you have a headache again?" asked Goten.

Trunks ignored him.

"It wouldn't look good- if we didn't go- we told Kaasan we would," he said in a very small voice.

"There you go again, gabbling away and changing your mind. If you don't want to go we could have gone home long ago!" Trunks was short-tempered as of late.

Goten began walking faster, taking uneven strides forward. The cookie tin was too big, preventing him from seeing the ground beneath him.

"Your headache will get worse if you're unhappy like that all the time. What's more..." He swallowed whatever else he had been meaning to say. After walking a while longer he said, "Kaasan already arranged it for tonight. You can go first and see if you can stand it, and if you don't want to stay we don't have to- it's not too late yet."

"I never said I didn't want to stay!" cried Trunks.

"In fact," commented the dark-haired teen with a smile, "I don't think it'll be all that bad seeing the whole family again, it *has* been a year and a half." He spoke quickly, as if he had long been waiting for an opportunity to say this.

"Well, as long as you think it's fine, there's no problem, is there?"

"What are you saying that for? It's not just me..."

They went on in silence, examining the street-signs at the entrance to each lane. There was so many in this neighborhood.

"If you want to stay too, then we can stay." Goten was trying his hardest to ease the atompshere slightly. "What's more, I ought to talk to oniichan too- I heard he's been doing some interesting things lately." 

The wind set a few courtyard doors banging.

Occasionally a flurry of snow would be blown off a shadowed roof-top and make its way down people's necks.

"I still think you should put on my scarf," said the raven-haired teen.

"I'm not cold at all, and what's more..." Goten's attention focusd entirely on him, and the clumsy dark-haired boy almost tripped over a brick lying frozen in the road.

"I told you to give that tin to me," shouted Trunks.

"Well, I won't!"

"I can manage it- unlike you!" His voice had suddenly gone much lower.

A group of chattering, giggling girls turned out of the lane ahead and came in their direction. There was a silence as the girls walked towards them.

Trunks turned his face away, apparently studying the street-sign.

The girls walked on past, only to give obvious stares at the lavendar-haired boy, whispering comments under their breath of excitement. Goten rolled his eyes at them silently, but once they had gone by it turned into an angry blush as blood flushed his face. How dare they stare at Trunks like that! Trunks continued without a sound. Trunks kept wanting to go faster, but he wasn't sure that Goten would be able to keep up. Some time passed before they hard the sound of laughter and voices again, going off into the distance.

"Give it to me!"

"No way!"

"It's not necessary!"

"I know what you're afraid of," muttered Goten, under his breath, holding on to the tin and walking steadfastly ahead.

"Me afraid? What have I got to be afraid of?"

The raven-haired boy said nothing.

"If that's what you want, just go ahead and carry it! What do I care?" Trunks was still shouting, but his tone had softened considerably.

And so Trunks carried the tin after all. Whenever Goten got angry or felt aggrieved he would blink fiercely and not utter a word. He knew Trunks was doing it for his sake, that the lavendar haired boy was afraid that he too... Well being so clumsy in the first place, and carrying that tin too... But Goten still felt upset and angry with him. "Why didn't you find someone with more tact than me?" he asked silently.

  
- 

  
"What if you hadn't grown up with me?"

"I don't know- you've always been a part of my life, since I can remember."

"But just suppose... suppose you and I had only just met..."

"Just suppose?!" He flared up again and pulled up a weed which he twisted around his finger while looking off towards some lights in the distance. There was a small shed there belonging to the watchman at a construction site.

"If you don't want to talk about it, that's fine," Goten said. "But you musn't be angry."

The other boy turned his face fiercely toward his companion. "Just suppose I'd never existed in the first place, eh? Just suppose the world never existed?"

"What's the point in saying all this? I was talking about reality..."

"I know there's no point, so let's not talk about it. This is the way I am, and you're the way you are- that's reality for you." 

They were sitting beside a pile of bricks by the roadside. The city moat's muddy water flowed on int he moonlight. Mosquitoes attacked their faces. Beyond, in the distance, lay the silent construction site.

"It'll be a real mess around here when those apartments are built," Goten commented sadly. He had always hated to see traditional housing and forests (as few as they were by then) destroyed so high-priced apartments could be sold off.

Trunks looked at the moon, saying nothing. The moon was so tiny and so far away. The moon that night, too, had seemed particularly small and remote.

"Reality's the only thing that matters- what's the point in talking about possibilites?" He continued looking at the moon as he said, almost to himself, "I've always known. I knew we should be together. That's reality for you."

"You've always known?"

"I've forgotten when it started exactly..."

  
-

  
"Yes," Goten thought, "that's reality! So many years now." And Goten tried to catch the other boy's eye.

"I can carry it," the raven-haired teen said. "Truly! It's *only* a cookie tin- I can manage it." He was deliberatly pretending nothing had happened.

He continued, "Remember that time I got Kasu? I managed to carry that big basket all the way back by myself, didn't I? And she didn't even run away." Kasu was their cat.

Breathing hard, Trunks walked on, his feet making a shuffling sound as he pushed some more large ice shards aside. Goten began to feel bad again as he remembered the loss of his wallet.

"It was really strange loosing that wallet. You were standing right behind me when I was buying the cookies, weren't you?" He was trying to change the subject.

The lavendar-haired boy still said nothing, but did glance at the other boy once.

"Why are you always so unhappy?" What Goten feared most was that Trunks might get angry, for as soon as that happened his headache gave him trouble- it had started ever since Goten had told him about "it".

When Goten saw that the older boy still wasn't going to say anything, the raven-haired boy brought up the subject of the map once again.

"Kaasan really took a lot of care over that map- she said she spent over half-an-hour drawing it!"

"And then you went and lost it. I don't even know why your parents changed houses all of a sudden- they'd been just fine in their old place for how many years?" Trunks' tone was very mild.

Goten laughed and said, "It would have been better if I'd given you the wallet to carry!"

"Look out!" Trunks cried.

Startled, Goten barely managed to avoid a small hole in the ground. He was always look up at the lavendar-haired boy, hoping he was happy, hoping he'd smile.

  
-

  
"Why do you keep on looking at me all the time?"

"How do you know I'm looking at you if you're not looking at me?"

"Well, what's the verdict? Better-looking than a baboon, eh?"

"Than what? Better-looking than who?"

"Haven't you ever been to the zoo?"

"Yes, when I was a really little kid. Remember?"

"Well, what do you think I look like?"

"Like a wood lump that doesn't know how to laugh."

"If a wooden lump laughed there'd be an earthquake."

"What are you afraid of... there's no one else around."

"Aren't you afraid?"

"I'm really afraid when I see you unhappy all the time."

Then he smiled; he was astoundingly handsome; Goten wished for once that their family could be just like other people's... That night Goten told him...

  
-

  
The sun had disappeared completely. They were still wandering around the same neighborhood, searching blindly everywhere. People were leaving work. It was cold, and they were hurrying homewards. Goten wanted to ask the way several times, but Trunks wouldn't let him.

"What's there to be afraid of?"

"Who said anything about being afraid?"

"I'll go and ask- you don't have to."

"No you wont!"

They continued onwards. The number of people going home now seemed to indicate a factory in the vicinity.

"Are you feeling tired?" asked Goten in that same small voice of his- as if he were afraid of startling someone. "Is your head troubling you?" he asked again.

Trunks did not reply. He did not feel like talking.

"Oh, it's all my fault... What if you just sit here and rest a while and wait for me?"

The lavendar-haired teen rolled his eyes at his companion impatiently and continued walking.

They walked on silently through the tide of workers heading homewards, a gap sometimes appearing between them. A tall chimney in the distance spewed out black smoke which blew raggedly in the southeasterly wind. Some sparrows flew in a flurry onto a rooftop, then onto the bare branches of a jujube tree before flying off once again. An old woman wearing a white apron stood on a corner, crying. "Fresh hot meatballs! Just ready to eat!"

After some time they realized they had made their way back to the main road. Not far off stood the cinema where they got off the bus earlier that afternoon. There was nothing to do but turn back. Fewer people were on the streets now. The ruts in the road had turned into channels of ice and several smaller children were sliding along them. The raven-haired boy kept turning back to look at them.

"Are you coming or not?" Trunks wanted to flare up at the other teen again, but then he noticed that Goten was looking at the children.

A little flustered, the younger teen said, "I forgot what it was like to be a little kid."

"Oh really?" Trunks stopped walking and looked at the children.

"Care-free and uncaring. I miss being like that, don't you?"

They continued looking for a while. The children were having so much fun on the ice; all brightly coloured, they looked like so many balls of wool.

"Let's get going." Trunks said, nudging the other boy softly. "Come on, let's go!" he said again.

"Why do you care what other people think of you? Why do they let them judge you like that?"

They passed two more lanes, neither of them the right one. Goten kept going on about the children. "I barely even remember what it was like to have real fun anymore. Don't you remember when you could just say any stupid thing that came to your mind, Trunks-kun? Don't you remember..."

"Look out where you're going!"

"The only thing is... I was thinking that maybe we could wait a few months."

"Well, whatever, a few months before our parent disown us won't matter that much."

"No, that's not what I was worrying about. What does worry me is..."

Trunks turned round fiercely to face Goten and he came to an abrupt halt, as if his own thoughts had scared him.

"You don't think they'll be afraid of us, do you? Do you think they'll understand? After all, they are from a different generation than us..." He had finally managed to say it.

The wind had become even stronger. Somewhere an old iron ot was blown clattering to the ground. They walkedon blindly, forgetting to check the streets names.

In fact, this was not the first time either of the had thought of this, but for some reason neither of them had ever mentioned it. Perhaps just the though that by avoiding mention of it, it would remain only a possibility, or perhaps they had meant to bring it up several times, but somehow the subject always changed...

  
-  


"Do you think we should tell them at once or individually?" The lithe raven-haired boy sat on the bed, looking up from his book. Whenever he had the money to bus to it, he loved to wander around the downtown library. flipping through books, checking out books which he never got around to reading, and lay piled up on his night-table. That evening he had finally begun one from the pile. He had forgotten how much he loved the feel of a thick leather-bound book in his hands.

"It doesn't really matter which... they're going to find out somehow." Trunks said. He had wanted to bring this up, but the other boy had beaten him to it.

"That's what I think too. Indvidually would take a long time, but saying it to everyone would take a lot of courage."

Trunks said nothing else, thinking that perhaps it wouldn't...

  
-  


One night the dark-haired teen was once again awakened by the other boy's shouts. He was always having nightmares. It was raining hard outside. The lavendar-haired teen lit a cigarette. "If you want to tell them, only tell your parents..." he said suddenly. The red glow of his cigartte brightened and dimmed.

"Try to sleep more- it's still early. And stop that nasty habit, it'll only kill you." Goten sighed, walking up to the other boy, draping one arm around him, and swiping the cigarette with the other, throwing it out a window which he had opened. The thin trail of smoke followed the cigarette.

The street-lights were still on and the shadow of a tree wavered against the wall.

"That's all I ask- you can decide everything else."

"I'm afraid my parents will only tell yours anyway..." Goten had wanted to talk about it then.

Trunks came suddenly to lay his head on the other boy's chest. "People don't live very long... our parents will only get older. We owe it to them to tell them the truth- to be open with them. We must be honest."

Lightning illuminated Trunks' tear-streaked face. The younger boy cradled his head and lay there, terrified, looking at the wavering tree-shadow on the wall. Later Goten cried, and forgot to talk about it.

  
-

  
And then there had been the evening they had sat enjoying the cool shade under the overpass. A young couple were playing hide-and-seek with their little girl at the head of the bridge. While the mother held her hands over the little girl's eyes, the father crept behind a tree to hide.

She watched them with rapt attention, leaned on his shoulders, and giggled, afraid to make a sound; then she stretched her neck out and laughed out loud anyway.

The young father tickled his daughter's faec with his beard, so that she wriggled in his arms and chuckled loudly...

Trunks had thought of it again then and had been about to mention it when the darker-haired boy once more interrupted his companion's train of thought. He began to talk slowly.

"Doesn't it ever make you sad... thinking that you might never have children?"

"Well, there's always adoption..." the other boy replied thoughtfully.

"But it would never be like having one of your own." Goten replied solemnly.

Goten's train of thought drifted off. He remembered when they went to see The Hunchback of Notre Dame, a young child in the audience asked in a loud voice, "Why does that nasty bad man always keep ringing that bell?" Children always think people that are "different" are evil. That time they didn't say anything; didn't even talk the whole night long.  



	2. Part II

**:::: Nostalgic Season: Flicker of Gloom  
**by: Inuki **Ookami****  
**

**Published:** 19th December, 2003  
**Pairings:** Goten x Trunks  
**Disclaimers: **The poem and Dragon Ball Z and it's characters are obviously not mine.  
**Archive? **I'll probably let you, just tell me first! ^^  
**Summary:** Written for a Winter Fanfic Contest... it's about Trunks and Goten returning home for the holidays- they have to finally face their parents.  
  
**Other notes:** Okay. I've tried something very different than with any of my other stories- instead of waiting for beautifully eloquent (and ridiculously long ^_-) physical descriptions of the good-looks of the characters, and their body language... instead of giving them huge and emotional speeches... you guys really are going to have to read in-between the lines on this story. A lot of things I wanted to say, I left unsaid, hoping that they made their way across through the characters ways of acting. Think of taking it very slowly... don't rush through it all at once- catch all the little nuances... it will make this story a lot more meaningful to you. ^_^ Well, enjoy. ^.~  
  


:::: Home For The Holidays _  
  
Here come the tough days, rough season for gay   
Illusions to Currier and Ives, dead limbs family trees   
Chances to love, opportunities to punish   
_ Holidays spent alone, in rooms full of relatives  
  
Always about others, few thoughts for the person   
Why she chose living sinful, how he let down his father   
Shouldn't try to hug grandma, can't be alone with children   
A pariahs isolation, aliens in their own family  
  
A wish to belong, never felt truly one   
Rebuking flashed glances, sly smirks of entendre   
No insights requested, no genuine interest about it   
Prefer speculation, deviant myths rich with gossip  
  
When holidays have passed, returned safe to gay ghettos   
How many will ask, why even they bothered   
Year after year till one day to stop, going home altogether   
Families cannot accept, what they will not understand   
  
© 2003 - Liam  
  


**:::: Part 2  
**  
-

  
Today, when the dark-haired boy suddenly came out with it Trunks had not been prepared, neither had Goten, himself. It may very well have been that the reason the raven locked boy said it was because he was so unprepared. But today of all days? Then again, perhaps it was because it was today... Once said, it could not be avoided- it had to be considered. In some ways it was like removing heavy stone from the heart, only to replace it with an even heavier one.

They continued on in silence. The wind was still very strong, and Goten could hear it whipping all around them. The tattered remains of a paper kite hung on the power lines above.

Eventually they were forced to stop in a spot sheltered from the wind. Trunks leaned against the wall with a sigh. He would have pulled out a cigarette, but Goten had made him quit. The dark-haired boy put the cookie tin down on the ground and looked up helplessly at the blue-eyed boy.

A flock of cawing crows flew crookedly against the grey sky and were buffete southeastwards in the wind.

"All that's needed is for us to talk them calmly through it with them." said the lavendar-haired teen. "I think if we just rationalize it with them..." He was looking at a bike which had flipped over in the wind without an owner, totally abandoned. Goten was gazing up at the crows which had made a circle and were now flying back... They were only trying to rest innocently in a tree, but the wind was too strong for them to return to their sheltered home.

The older boy repeated "If we just reason with them... what do you think?" His hands were trembling, but he tried to hold them from his closest companion, keeping them clenched tightly at his sides, trying to hide his fear. He had to be the brave one, had to put up walls of defense. He blotted away the tears that were coming to his eyes by blinking them away and sniffling.

The crows finally succeeded in landing in the tree.

"Is something wrong, Trunks-kun?" the younger boy inquired, his eyes shimmering. He gently reached out a hand to th other boy's arm.

"Nothing." Trunks said quietly, brushing a loose bang of his hair in his eyes that had blinded him, and, in the process, pushed off the other boy's hand, for fear he might notice the trembling.

The two of them stood there at the corner of the wall, protected from the wind, saying nothing more for a very long time.

-

The street lights came on. It must have been past six.

"Has your headache gone away?" Goten asked.  
The purple-haired boy nodded softly, avoiding his companion's gaze. A solemn village cart passed in front of them, its wheels clattering over a manhole cover. After it had gone by, Goten noticed that the over had not been properly closed.

The dark haired teen nudged his friend, and said, "Look at that manhole cover."

Trunks barely even so much as raised an eyebrow.

"Look," Goten repeated, drawing himself close to the other boy. "The cover isn't on properly!"

"Why does it matter?" Trunks sighed impatiently.

"Well, it could injure someone!" Goten said defensively in a small voice, as if he had done something wrong.

Ignoring the younger boy, Trunks continued onward. Goten followed slowly, his eyes fixed upon the manhole cover. After a while he began walking towards it.

"Come back!" the lavendar haired boy shouted.

"Someone might fall down it," the raven haired teen said.

"Serves them right! Are you the only one who cares?"

Goten returned to his companion, at last, looking from Trunks to the manhole, wanting to say something, but not daring. He was too afraid to prove the older boy.

The street lights and their shadows swayed in the wind. There was no one else in the lane.

"It's getting late, let's go." said Goten softly at last.

"Where to?"

"Kaasan must be getting really impatient by now. Since we've come this far we really should go."

"I didn't want to come in the first place. I didn't want to tell anyone... ever." the lavendar-hair boy said quietly, but forcefully, refusing to look at the other boy, his head lowered to the ground.

"Please Trunks-kun... please try. You must be brave... we both must. It's better this way." Goten was pleading with the other boy now.

"We already know what they're going to do and say without even telling them! It's NO damned use! They're going to wish us dead! You will only cause pain and suffering and bring dishonour upon both of our families, no matter what good intentions you may have!" TTrunks had balled up a fist, and was trying fiercely to keep his cool, but who knew how long it would hold out?

Goten said nothing for a long time. Finally he swiftly picked up the tin and began walking rapidly forward. It was only then that Trunks realized the raven-haired boy was crying. He followed silently, wanting to say... something, anything- but he could not seem to find the right words...

  
-

  
"Let's just forget this whole silly business!"

"No! No! We must! You know very well..." Goten crawled onto the bed and cried.

"You know as well as I do exactly how they're all going to respond, once the shock gets over, no one will accept us ever again..." 

"And what else? What haven't you said? You haven't said that there's a chance that they might accept it. That they might learn to live with us. That they might even understand... You haven't even taken that into consideration, have you? Even if they don't agree with us, we're their children, and that must mean something. Blood is thicker than morals. The people that gave us life... the same ones that raised us, surely they will not turn their backs on us because of this! You can not say that we will be lucky! I must be lucky at least once in my lifetime- I've never been lucky!" The fragile younger boy cried and shouted as if he were insane...

Trunks had never seen the other boy like this before. Never had Goten even questioned him about anything so serious. Completely taken aback, the lavendar-haired youth dared not continue.

"I didn't mean it, really... I meant... I never meant to say I wasn't lucky to have you." Goten was trying hard to explain, that cute frown crossed his face that often did when he was trying to think about something very complex. "I really didn't mean that at all. I mean... I agree. There's a big chance that they won't be pleased with us... but we have to risk it..." Trunks was placating the other boy, as if Goten were only a little child again.

  
-

  
They walked on quite a distance, passing many small lanes and forgetting to check the names.

"We've already arranged it with Kaasan," Goten sobbed. "We should at least go, even if you don't want to tell them..." 

"Of course we'll go. After all, you didn't loose your wallet, and we didn't buy these cookies for nothing, now did we?" Trunks was trying to make light humour of it, but only succeeded in sounding sarcastic.

"Anyhow," the older boy hurried on, "you can eat those cookies, but you'll only get sick if you eat them all yourself."

A soft smile spread across the boy's face, that was almost as delicate as his features were just then. Trunks raised a soft finger and brushed away the other boy's tears. "You can't go in looking like that, now can you?"

For some reason Goten could not stop crying.

"Let's stop a bit for another rest," Trunks suggested.

There was a temporary vegetable stall with an awning set up by the roadside ahead. The sellers had already left for home and the stall was deserted, save for a few turnips nobody wanted that were piled up on a table. They went to stand in the shadows, away from the street lights. The raven-haired boy continued wiping his eyes.

"Don't think so much. Really- don't spend so much time thinking..."

"I'm not, I'm not. I didn't want to cry."

"I just have a bad temper sometimes."

"No you don't. It's me... I bring you bad luck. I always have known it..."

"What a thing to say!" Trunks sighed softly, staring into the other boy's eyes, which shimmered like a thousand glistening lights, wavering every now and then like an illusion.

"But just suppose if..."

"'Just suppose' again! We've been friends for as long as I can remember now, but you keep on saying, 'Just suppose...' but, I tell you, those years of ours together are the reality."

The moon was so tiny and so far away, just like on that other night. The dark-haired boy leaned against his companion closely, afraid that all this was not real and that he was like that moon, so far away, so far away...

"Let's go."

"All right."

Just at that point a door opened in a courtyard opposite and two men that that seemed vaguely familiar stepped out holding beers. They both were merry, a strange juxtaposition to the bleak and cold atmosphere all around them. The livelihood inside the house seemed rowdy and dizzying- just like the two men that had stepped outside.

In a very displeased tone one of them said, "Apparently neither of them have arrived yet. It does seem odd, doesn't it?"

The other man replied, "It's sickening isn't it? I hear they're living together... it seems suspicious to me, the whole thing. That poor mother... you know how badly she wanted to have grandchildren..."

The first man spoke again. "Bunch of stupid fags."

The voices slowly faded into the distance.

Goten stood completely immobile.

"Let's go, shall we? What's wrong?" asked Trunks.

The younger boy, now seemingly even more fragile went back into the shadows, out of the street light's reach and leaned against the stall, staring wordlessly at the courtyard opposite. The man walked over to look at the door opposite. It was No. 57, Moonlight Lane. He came back to the vegetable stall and stood beside the woman, saying nothing.

Chichi came to the door and muttered something under her breath about people not closing doors properly. She gave a short look out into the cold night... as if wondering where her son was. During that pause, the lavendar hair boy turned his head to stare at Goten... the boy had an excrutiating look upon his face that made Trunks' heart break. It was a wretched look of agony and pain that the lavendar-haired boy might never be able to even understand a fraction of.

The gate slammed shut with a bang.

It was silent all around, as quiet as the desert. There was only the sound of the wind, making one think of a tiny boat caught in a deep valley between high, dark waves. The desert has its limits, the ocean comes to an end. If there were no oases, where could the camels go? If there were no harbors, where could a small boat shelter? There were times when neither of them could see the point of carrying on... times when they lay awake in the depths of the night. Perhaps Trunks had had yet another nightmare, or Goten had dreamt of the hereafter, and then they talked of death.

"Do you think there's life after death?"

"I think there must be."

"You're just superstitious."

"Who can tell?"

"Have you thought about death?"

"Of course."

"They why don't you die?"

"If I died, the loved ones I left behind would suffer too much. What about you?"

"The same."

This was their oasis, they looked to this as they walked through the desert. They were each other's harbor.

-

It was very late. Somewhere in the distance came the sound of the time signal. Eight o' clock or maybe nine. Probably eight.

They continued standing in the stall, their thoughts confused, saying nothing. The wind continued unabated- it would probably blow all ngiht. The matting of the stall roof had blown open a crack and was flapping noisily against the roof beam, letting in a flurry of old snow which fell on them, unnoticed.

A long time later Goten said suddenly, "We haven't fed Kasu," he said from inside the coat.

The other boy caressed the younger one's face, his eyes.

"I'm fine now." Goten said.

"I'm fine too." the lavendar-haired teen replied.

"Shall we go home now?" asked the raven-haired boy so quietly it was almost a mere whisper.

"Yes, let's."

"Let's go then."

They turned homewards, keeping close to each other.

They had left the cookie tin behind in the vegetable stall. They were always losing things.

"Oh yes! I forgot! That manhole cover," the younger boy exclaimed suddenly.

They retraced their steps to the first place they had stopped. They found the manhole, but the cover was tightly shut.

"Was this the one?" inquired the lavendar-haired teenager.

"I think so, or at least, this seems to be the only one around here..."

Trunks banged his foot down on the cover several times but it didn't budge- it was shut tightly.

Goten went back to the corner where they had stood before.

"Oh, from here it looks as though it's not on properly because there's a bit of black showing through the snow, like a hole." 


End file.
